Wild
by ash the airbender
Summary: Remus Lupin was a calm, collected, level-headed person. Most of the time. (SiRe one-shot)


**Wild**

_A/N: A brief look at Sirius/Remus naughtiness written pretty late at night while roasting marshmallows. Pointless and short._

Remus Lupin was a calm, collected, level-headed person. There was a reason Dumbledore had made him a prefect, other than as a last ditch effort to reign in James and Sirius's rampant rule-breaking. When Remus spoke, it was without any of the melodramatic outbursts and flourishes that his friends were known to use. His voice was always level and his words were carefully and deliberately selected to make his point.

Despite the difficulty with which the werewolf was faced in keeping his clothes from ruin – between the Marauders' more "adventurous" exploits and his own "furry little problem" – Remus always managed to look well put-together. His hair had a touch of curl, but none of James's unruliness, nor Sirius's length, making it far easier to manage.

Nothing Remus did was ever rushed, or desperate. His actions, his movements, and his words were chosen specifically to serve a rational purpose. He never got caught up in the passions of his own emotions, and the only times he lost his cool were, quite understandably, when he underwent his painful monthly transformations to and from his vicious werewolf state.

So when, after nearly a year of what could tentatively be called dating but was probably better categorised as frequent snogging, cuddling, and occasional hand-holding, Sirius finally coerced Remus into a position where it seemed they were finally going to cross that long-awaited bedroom threshold, he was not at all prepared for what happened next.

"Sirius," Remus gasped when Sirius tempted him toward his bedroom, half-heartedly attempting to resist. It was the autumn after their final year at Hogwarts, and after spending the summer with the Potters, Sirius and Remus had gotten a flat together. A week into living together – and sleeping in separate rooms, to Sirius's dismay – and it seemed they would no longer be able to keep their hands off each other any longer.

Maybe they could rent out the other room…

"Remus, if we don't shag right now, this _minute_, I will literally explode from sexual frustration," Sirius said through gritted teeth, nonetheless restraining himself from any invasive groping for the time being.

"I… I just don't want to… I don't want, um…" Remus searched for the right words, looking around as if he was hoping to pull them out of the air. "I don't want it to be… not what you expected."

Sirius rolled his eyes. Of course _that_ would be Remus's problem. He should have known that was why Remus had refrained so long from giving in to Sirius's not-at-all-subtle seduction tactics. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ Sirius; his perpetual self-doubt was kicking in and preventing him from imagining a task at which he wouldn't be completely inadequate. Which was ridiculous, because Sirius thought Remus was brilliant at everything he tried. Except Potions, but really, that class was rubbish.

"You'll be great, Remus," Sirius assured him. "It's just like what we've been doing, just with less clothing." He waggled his eyebrows. "And no inhibitions."

Remus bit his lip. "That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered. Sirius ignored him, however, because they'd been snogging quite heatedly just a moment ago and seeing Remus worry his bottom lip between his teeth wasn't helping his current state.

He grabbed Remus by the arm and hauled him bodily into the bedroom, slamming the door behind them and making his way toward the bed, snogging all the way. Their tongues slid against each other, hot and wet. Sirius broke away, brought his mouth to Remus's ear and whispered in a husky voice.

"For once in your life, quit worrying," he said. "Just let go."

The words were accompanied by Sirius biting Remus's ear and tugging lightly. That was all it took.

Remus came completely undone, letting out a low, visceral, downright feral sound that was something between a growl and a groan. With a force that caught Sirius completely by surprise, he shoved Sirius down onto the bed and practically pounced on him, straddling his hips and taking his face in his hands, kissing him so hard it was almost painful. Sirius let his hands trace the entirety of Remus's form, working off his shirt and taking fascination in the werewolf's tight, wiry muscles, the indentations and ridges of his scars. He hasn't seen this "take charge" side of Remus before, and he liked it.

It could have carried on like this and Sirius would have still been left in an oozing puddle of pleasure, but once again, Remus had to kick it up a notch.

Sirius was exploring Remus's mouth, biting his lower lip, sucking on it. Remus gave an appreciative and distinctly canine whine and did the same to Sirius, then proceeding to trail his tongue and teeth all over Sirius's jaw and neck and shoulders, nipping at the skin and leaving possessive marks. His hands were pinning Sirius down; when Sirius arched his back into him, Remus's grip inadvertently tightened, nails digging into flesh and leaving crescent-shaped marks in Sirius's skin.

When Sirius drew back teasingly, undoing his shirt, Remus watched with wide-eyed fascination, memorising the movements of Sirius's agile fingers, following them down, past Sirius's stomach, settling on the waistband of Sirius's jeans.

Sirius's shirt hit the floor. Silver eyes met gold. Something flashed in Remus's gaze, something primal and possessive, that should have frightened Sirius, but he was a Gryffindor; he walked on the wild side and laughed in the face of danger.

Rather than worry, Sirius was shot through with a thrill of excitement and anticipation. He found himself grinning.

Remus growled, incredibly sexily, and lunged at Sirius. Trousers were gone almost instantly, shaken off their legs with a haste like they were carrying some deadly disease. Sirius thought he might have shouted, at some point, several times, over and over, but he was too busy committing to memory every groan, every growl, every noise Remus uttered as Sirius bucked his hips beneath him, grinding their bodies into one another.

It was friction. It was heat. It was slippery with sweat and Sirius found himself with white-knuckled grips of handfuls of bedsheets, watching Remus's eyes roll back in his head. There's tension, there's release, and then, there's silence.

They've collapsed in a tangled mess on top of each other, sweaty and out of breath. Remus rests his head on Sirius's chest, once again looking tired and thin and drained of the raw power he'd shown that night. Sirius gazed down at the chestnut curls and found himself marveling.

So this was the beast that Remus kept caged inside himself. This was the wolf in him, the part that liked his steaks rare and could always hear and smell better than his friends. Remus tried so hard to hide that part of himself, tuck it away where no one could see and be afraid.

But Sirius wasn't afraid. He was invigorated, and determined to match this wild animal in ferocity and passion the next time he encountered it (which he hoped would be soon). He felt more alive than he ever had.

He felt… wanted.

Struck with this new, unfamiliar feeling, Sirius shifted, forcing Remus to lift his head. Their eyes met. Remus saw the strange look in Sirius's eyes and immediately his face was awash with guilt. Before he could apologise, or anything so ridiculous as that, Sirius shut him up instantly.

"I love you."

He hadn't been planning to say it. But he knew it was the right thing to say, in that moment, because he meant it with every fibre of his being.

Remus got the same look in his eyes, and Sirius realised, not for the first time, but perhaps more profoundly than he had before, that the two of them were so much the same.

Outcasts. Unwanted. Sirius by his family, and Remus by society. Because of his "condition." It made Sirius sick. Remus suffered more than anyone because of his lycanthropy. Sirius knew he could never fully understand, but he wanted to try.

"I'm sorry," Remus said, burying his face once again in Sirius's chest, inhaling deeply the scent of him. Sirius's face hardened, then softened immediately.

How dare Remus feel like he had to apologise. How dare Sirius make him feel this way.

"Are you kidding?" Sirius said, a smile coming easily to his face. "I want you to do that to me again. On the sofa. On the floor. On the kitchen table." He grinned. "Up against the wall."

Remus frowned at the mechanics of it. "I'm not sure—" But he was cut off by Sirius biting that spot on his ear again, and Remus gave that same longing whine from before and his limbs collapsed. His hands in Sirius's hair tightened into fists for just a moment before relaxing again.

"Merlin, Sirius… you smell bloody amazing…" He inhaled again, nuzzled his nose into Sirius's neck, sighed deeply. "Up against the wall it is. Anywhere you want. Middle o' King's Cross Station. Anything you say."

Sirius grinned cheekily. "Now where was that attitude when James and I tried to get you to pull pranks with us in school?" Remus smacked him upside the head.

"Prick." He didn't look up, kept his face buried in Sirius's neck. A long stretch of silence passed between them. Sirius sighed happily. Remus didn't move.

He felt Remus's lips moving against his neck.

"I love you too, you insufferable twat."

That was good enough for now.


End file.
